Freedom
by DarkestAngellic
Summary: The Christmas present Chaos receives from one Vincent Valentine is rather... unique.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix.**_

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Chaos, having been expecting to just retreat into the shadows for Christmas, was quite surprised when presents ended up somehow finding their way into his house. He would have found it both suspicious and infuriating were it not for the familiar scent of leather, gunpowder and _others_ that belonged to only one man - Vincent Valentine. His scent overlapped any and all on the meticulously wrapped presents, therefore he was the courier between senders and Chaos.

Why the man didn't just wait for a time when Chaos was actually there to answer the door was a mystery… but then Vincent never did settle for doing things in a mundane fashion. Marlene and Denzel - with some help from Cloud and Tifa - had set aside some of their pocket money to buy everyone gifts; this Chaos had heard from the little girl's mouth. He just hadn't expected to be _included _in that everyone. Still, Marlene had remembered his brief mention of music and the bands he liked. That was more a gift than the CD itself, but he still enjoyed the songs all the same. From Tifa he received a cookbook, which prompted a smile from the demonic WEAPON. Clearly the mother hen of AVALANCHE had decided that the one frequently called upon to babysit her young charges ought to have a wider range of kitchen capabilities. Yuffie bought him alcohol - which _somehow_ found its way discreetly placed inside Seventh Heaven to be given to the regulars rather than Chaos ingesting any of it. Clearly she still remembered the episode when Vincent was intoxicated and Chaos had been handed control of the shared body, and still found humour from the past. Cid and Barret he hadn't expected gifts from, nor did he receive any.

Cloud's gift was… rather odd. Appreciated, but odd all the same. A guard dog - or rather a guard _wolf_. From Nibelheim. Just a young pup, the only one left of its family. He wasn't fond of Strife, but the man's heart was in the right place; rather than end the petite one's life, he'd given it a second chance to thrive by handing it over to Chaos. A predator by nature, but one with a respect for human life and more than capable of taking care of the wolf should it live long enough to reach adulthood and the ridiculously large build of its species. Just under six feet at the shoulders fully grown… certainly not a pet humans would be able to handle. But Chaos would manage just fine, even if he was letting the little pest use his knuckles as chew toys during the last stretch of the teething phase. The fangs sliced his skin to ribbons but his healing sealed the cuts over in only a matter of minutes, so he wasn't complaining.

And Vincent's present? Well… Chaos was currently looking from the gunman, to the gift in question, then back again.

"… Do I even want to know how you managed this?"

"Let's just say that Galian was willing to help somewhat."

"… Valentine, what did you _do_?"

"Considering I only have one arm, I needed claws. Galian was willing to take part in a partial transformation."

"So you let him come forward just enough to have his claws, and carved open your own chest?"

"… Something like that."

Amber eyes once again fall on the seemingly innocent sphere placed carefully on the table between them, bright glow casting both their faces in eerie blue light. Galaxies were easily visible, swirling endlessly within the confines of the Protomateria. One of the oddest creations ever fashioned by the Planet under Minerva's coaxing, or so he believed. One of the strongest, too, yet the one he hated the most.

"… Why did you give me this?"

"I know you, Chaos, just as you know me."

"Meaning?"

"You _know_ what I mean." Yes, he did know what his former host meant. This wasn't supposed to belong to him, and yet it did. This… thing… shackled his free will - Vincent Valentine of all people understood that the Protomateria made Chaos a prisoner in his own life. Forever bound in chains with clipped wings, never to be free.

Or rather he shouldn't have been. He was never supposed to get his hands on the Protomateria, the only safety mechanism left in existence to control him should he take a stroll down crazy lane again. Never was this supposed to come into his possession - designed as it was to be held by someone with a will separate to his own… and with good reason.

Claws settle into a deceptively gentle clasp around the object that can control every single minute twitch of his body if one knew how to properly wield it, face arranging into a calm mask bland of any specific emotion even when the voices in the back of his head start shrieking in protest. The souls within the Lifestream know what he's planning - have always known what he'd intended to do should the Protomateria ever fall into his hands. Minerva had just_foolishly_ hoped that this would never come to pass; clearly she didn't know the workings of Vincent Valentine's mind.

His grip tightens marginally at first, just enough to have the tiniest fault-line appear on what would seem to be smooth glass, a faint crackle of protest reaching his ears.

"What are you -?"

There is the hissing of air rushing in one direction - towards his hand - for only a handful of seconds before sound bursts all around the room, _bouncing_ around as though contained explosions had just been set off all over the place. Above the racket is the clear, tinkling peal of shattering materia, hitting a pitch no live creature should be able to hear as the glow flashes once, twice, flares so bright it momentarily blinds both occupants of the room before it sputters and dies out, taking the unholy noise with it and leaving behind unremarkable shards settled in the palm of Chaos' clawed hand. The quiet from the souls in the Lifestream is testament enough to their shock. They've never been _silent_ before, have always been a muted hum in the back of his head until now. Clearly no-one had thought him capable of actually following through with his plan, despite the precautions to avoid him coming into contact with the Protomateria. How little was known of him, the WEAPON granted some humanity so sick and tired of being nothing more than a caged animal to the whims of any who knew of his leash.

A leash that was no more, as even the shards were disintegrating in his hand, dissolving. _Finally_ rejoining the Lifestream after locking him up and making him prisoner in his own life for what felt like an eternity. Oddly peaceful amber eyes lift once again to watch Vincent, small smile curling his lips at the shocked expression still stamped across his former host's face.

"Thank you for your gift, Vincent."

For his gift, in essence, was giving Chaos the freedom he'd craved for so very, very long.


End file.
